


while you're away (we're here to stay)

by trashemdudes



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Batdad, Bruce is more of a caricature here, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashemdudes/pseuds/trashemdudes
Summary: While Batman’s gone to stand trial in Young Justice, the trio batkids stick it out in the Wayne mansion.





	while you're away (we're here to stay)

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose at the sight of the chewed up piece of broccoli floating in his soup. Then he glanced at Tim who was arguing loudly with Barbara with his mouth full; Tim paused mid rant to meet Dick’s narrowed eyes. 

“Hey...Dick....” He glanced at the soup, “That wouldn’t happen to be mine would it?”

Dick sighed and stabbed at his steak, not bothering to respond; Tim went back to arguing with Babs.

“Master Richard, if you would be so kind as to not look as though you have to suffer through my meals...”

Dick jumped in his seat at Alfred's voice behind him and Barbara and Tim snickered behind him. Dick sucked in a breath, chastising himself in the back of his head for letting himself get snuck up on from behind. Bruce would be real proud of him for that. Criminals would undeniably appreciate it too.

“Oh...” Dick shoved a chunk of meat into his mouth before smiling endearingly at the old butler, “Just regretting that it's all going to be gone soon.” The steak melted on his tongue, but Dick didn't really taste it. 

“Mhm.” Alfred muttered as he handed Tim a towel, “Wipe up, Master Timothy before you splatter everything in the vicinity. I’d like to keep my tablecloths white.”

“His coffee stains ruined that already,” Barbara coughed into her soup, and Dick couldn’t help but grin at that, meeting Babs' eyes.

“Cover your mouth when you cough," Alfred said, shooting her a look. Dick could never tell if he was being serious or not.

She rolled her eyes and looked at Alfred. “The only guys who might get sick are Workaholic One who’s already gone through every virus possible since his immune system is not an immune system anymore and Workaholic Two who lived with a zoo. They won’t get sick or at least,” she amended, “won’t _die_ from getting sick.”

“Workaholic 2?” Dick asked, mock offended.

Barbara’s eyes met his and she wiggled her eyebrows, making him groan. She smiled knowingly. Dick's eyes couldn't help but linger on her and the way her expression unconsciously softened when she was distracted by her meal again. He felt his throat tighten.

“Yes and it would be a travesty for the public to hear that the great Nightwing and Robin were defeated by the common cold.”

“Hey, c’mon Alfie,” Dick protested, glancing up at the man with his best offended expression, “You wouldn’t even spread rumors that it was Apokolips or something for us?”

“Yeah. Like Vandal Savage or Brainiac?” Tim added.

Alfred stared them down impassively, “I’ll be sure to inform Master Bruce on his return of the fact that you consider Master Kent’s villains more highly.”

Dick met Tim’s eyes, and both of them snapped their mouths shut, eyes lit in sheepish amusement. Alfred finished picking up the dishes they had finished, refilling their water glasses before he returned to the kitchen. It closed with a long creak that echoed in the large dining room.

Too loud.

The three met each other's eyes in wry, quirked smiles in an effort to hide the empty chair at the head of the table.

No one said his name.

 

Dick shifted his position on the rooftop, right above Bruce’s room, looking out towards Gotham’s distant city lights. The crumbling tiles dug into the meat of his palms as he lowered himself back. The tiles dug into his back, cold and stiff, but Dick sunk into the feel of the cool clay, closing his eyes.

It was warm...the night air still heated, and Dick opened his eyes to look up at the sky and sigh.

Dick would...Dick would have to take on the Batman mantle at least a couple days a week. They’d decided on that a while back, and as much as Dick didn’t want to, it wasn’t like he could refuse knowing what the symbol meant to Gotham, to the world - to see that hulking cowled figure standing beside the rest of the Justice League, prowling in Gotham. Nightwing...Nightwing just didn’t mean as much in comparison. That figure was solely for Dick’s own purposes, for just the tiniest bit of freedom from Bruce.

But that wasn’t his main concern.

Tim would be his Robin.

Dick felt something knot inside his stomach because now Tim was his responsibility, and while he trusted him...Dick didn’t trust the villains to not do something idiotic and crazy and immeasurably cruel to Tim. Not after Jason. 

Most of all, he didn’t trust himself to be able to pull Tim back from that danger.

For Gotham, there was Batwing and Batwoman of course, Huntress too, as questionable as her methods were. They helped. And they knew Bruce was gone with the League, which was all part of Dick’s argument of not taking on the cape; he had tried to argue Bruce down until his mentor had finally, tiredly, replied, “They need Batman too.”

And then Dick had shut up and sighed, feeling tired and old. He hadn’t been able to say, “No, they need you, Bruce. You in the cape. Not me.”

Because Bruce had had his mind set on it. Which meant it was going to happen.

Which meant that now...Dick would have to work double time especially with things speeding up on Kaldur and Artemis’ end. He had to address that along with the cape.

One slip up and-

One slip up.

Dick buried his head in his knees.

Come _back_ , Bruce.

 

Barbara stared at the glowing LED screen of her laptop and willed it to show her how to hack into Lex Luthor’s database. Or maybe show her the Light’s members and their hideout. After three hours of restlessness and an inability to focus, either would have been nice.

She... hadn’t been able to focus after dinner, the glaring emptiness of that one chair. Sometimes she forgot just how much space Bruce took up.

She shook her head at her thoughts and then sighed. Bruce was going to be gone for who knew how many days, how many weeks, months, and the three of them had to protect Gotham and the world. She couldn’t be wishing he was there so it would be easier on them. He'd return when he did, and they would make sure Gotham and Earth were standing when he did.

Barbara tapped her fingers against the base of her laptop sighing. The clock said twelve a.m. but that wasn’t even close to late by her standards. It had to be at least 4 a.m. before she could even consider sleep.

Maybe she should go get the files about the Reach from the cave. Bruce always kept them offline and on hard copies. It was a pain, but she knew better than to be lazy by now.

With a loud, groan, she forced herself out of her bed and yelped as her feet hit the cold hardwood before she slipped on some shoes and dragged a jacket around her shoulders. She tread quietly across her room, opening and closing her door with practiced silence. When she entered the hallway, the hallway was all vague shapes in cool tones. She let her eyes adjust before she moved again.

Barbara passed by Dick’s room, the light already off, and then Tim’s - his still on. Typical for Tim, but not...Dick. She paused before biting her lip. Give him time.

She crept along the dim corridor where only the light leaking in from the large glass windows provided any depth and shape to the darkness until she reached the old clock. With a nostalgic grin, she turned the hands and when it opened, gripped the cold pole and fell.

Sliding down the stupid fire man’s pole - Bruce had a sense of humor deep down - and recalling the first time she had been brought in made something warm and fuzzy and lonely burn through her. It passed her lips into a bright and warm noise that echoed in the cylindrical room.

She remembered practically shoving that pest of a Robin out of the way in her excitement.

Hitting the floor, Barbara hummed as the lights flickered on, and she went to the computer - only to find Tim dozing on the chair.

Workaholic. Really. She half wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and cuddle the tiny thing and half wanted to slap him. Mainly because there was a pile of Red Bulls by the keyboard.

She spun the chair around in a sharp jerk, and Tim popped awake, letting out a high pitched yelp.

“Tim.”

“Uh.” Tim stuttered.

Barbara sighed and crossed her arms across her chest, “C’mon. Let’s go back to bed.”

Tim pursed his lips before retorting, “You came down here for work too, didn’t you?”

She made a face. Cheeky brat. “I came down here because when I went to the bathroom, your light was still on, and like the good sister I am, was going to tell you to go to sleep. Guess what I found?”

Tim made a disgruntled and slightly sulky face in response. “Yea. I-” He sighed before looking up at her, pensive in a way that was always startling to Barbara. Tim got lost in his head a lot for a kid his age. When his eyes refocused, drawing Barbara back from the screen to him, his face looked pale with the blue light of the screen flooding the room. He looked tired. But he didn't look scared. Just curious. A little withdrawn.

“Are we going to be okay?” Tim asked.

Barbara raised her eyebrows, “I’m surprised you’re not asking Dick this.” She made a face. It wasn’t that she felt that he could give better advice - sometimes he could - but he was the resident eventual optimist in the family. She was the realist, and as depressing as it was to think, most people didn't come to her for encouragement. Only her closest friends and family did because they knew all her blunt words came with concern. But then again, Tim was the type to end up picking the cold truth too. And he was... he was becoming part of her family too.

“It’s...I’m closer to Dick, yeah, but I think he’s pretty down, and I don’t want to keep on reminding him of what we’re getting into. We don’t know when Bruce is coming back, if he’s ever coming back, and we have to take on these heavy hitters when all the big guys are gone. I’m ready for a fight, and I’ll take on whatever’s coming, but do you think..." Tim's eyes flickered down, brow furrowed for a moment. "Do you think we’ll be okay?”

She could still see the faint fuzziness of sleep in his face, and she wondered if he would’ve asked without it. She knew she wouldn’t have. Not when there was only one acceptable answer for them.

Barbara sighed and leaned against the chair, “I don’t know.” She blew a few strands of hair out of her face, watching them float back down, “I don’t know if we’re going to be okay or not, and I don’t know what it’s going to cost us, Tim, but most of the time when I ask myself why I’m doing this, well,” she smiled wryly, “I end up telling myself that it’s because...what else is there to do besides fight?”

Tim paused, absorbing her words for a long moment. Barbara was tempted to brush her fingers through his bedhead. When she glanced back at Tim's face, he gave her a lopsided smile.

“Fight and win, you mean.”

She raised her eyebrows and then gave in and ruffled his hair, “Yeah, Little Wing. Fight and _win_.”

 

A couple of hours later, Tim and Barbara started to go back upstairs to the mansion. They stared at the bright white stadium lights used to brighten the cave and flicked the switch, watching them slowly close, one by one.

The first night without a Batman in Gotham for a very long time. Without all of them out there. What did the city think?

They both stared into the solid darkness before Tim said, “We should be out there.”

Barbara licked her lips and took in a deep breath and said, “Not tonight, no.” Then she turned and walked out the cave, Tim following behind her, lost in his thoughts again.

 

They came out of the clock, and both nearly jumped out of their skin when they saw Dick sitting in the darkness, the chair facing them.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dick asked seriously.

“Oh my God, Dick,” Barbara said, her heart still beating out of her chest in surprise, her next words were exasperated and shaking with laughter, “What the fuck, you idiot? You’re so-”

She broke off into laughter, covering her face with her hands.

Tim glanced between the two of them, still reeling a little.

“And you, young man,” Dick continued, “it’s way past your bedtime.”

“Diick,” Tim groaned.

“It’s way past all your bedtimes,” Alfred said, flicking on the lights.

All of them screamed.

Alfred only cleared his throat, back straight as he stared them down, patiently. “Well?”

“Aww, c’mon Alfie,” Dick said, “It’s only three.”

“Only three hours past your bedtime.”

Barbara glanced at Tim and that sent them both snickering. 

“Your bedtime is _twelve_ , Dick?” Barbara asked.

“I mean...” Dick said.

“Off to bed, all of you,” Alfred repeated, and the three of them gave in without much protest, trailing after each other up the stairs and towards their bedrooms.

 

They alongside each other in the hallway.

“Are we...really going to sleep?” Dick whispered once they were out of Alfred’s range.

“Apparently you are,” Barbara retorted, “you should’ve been asleep three hours ago. And you know it because you’re,” she exaggeratedly whispered the next word, “ _whispering_.”

Dick bumped her shoulder, giving her an impotent glare, before repeating, “And how about you, Timbo? What’s your opinion on this?”

“I’m not really tired,” Tim said, shrugging. “I mean...we usually stay up later than this, and we didn’t exactly exert ourselves today.”

Dick and Barbara looked at him consideringly; the three of them stopped in the hallway.

“We could always wait up for Bruce,” Dick said jokingly.

It was quiet for a moment, all of them wishing for something that wouldn’t happen.

Then Barbara punched him on the shoulder, “Hell no. But I’m down for trashing the bastard’s room.” She stretched her arms up above her head, striding forward as she said, “It’d be perfect if Dinah was here. She knows how to have fun.”

“I mean it’s not a good replacement, but you have Tim. He’s adequate,” Dick pointed out and was subsequently kicked in the shins by said person. Dick grinned, throwing an arm around Tim’s neck and dragging him along as he turned back to Barbara, “And why does she let you call her Dinah? I’ve know Black Canary longer.” He jogged a little to catch up to her, Tim at his side.

Babs rolled her eyes, “Maybe because I’m not a little shit all the time, so we respect each other.”

Dick opened his mouth to protest, but then closed his mouth, looking chastised.

Tim burst out into a sharp cough of laughter before flushing and covering his mouth, ducking Dick’s swipe.

“Were you laughing at your dear older br-” Dick asked.

“-I wasn’t,” Tim replied quickly.

“He was,” Barbara said grinning.

“You-”

“Oh wait!” Tim yelled, his voice echoing in the mansion, making both of them jump. They looked around for Alfred, but when he didn’t appear from the shadows, they relaxed.

Tim flushed, explaining, “Uh, I have snacks. Bart showed us how to make some future snacks. Be right back.” He raced off to his room, and both Dick and Barbara raised their eyebrows, watching him go.

Then the both turned back to Bruce’s door in front of them. Like all the other architecture of Wayne manor,  it was imposing, the heavy oak door stretching several feet about them with ornate carvings of leaves and flowers curving out from the wood. There wasn't a speck of dust on them. As long as Alfred lived there never would be.

Dick stared at the wooden door fondly, smiling wryly, “Just like old times, I guess.”

Barbara froze, “Wait, _wait_ . You used to go to _Bruce_ ’s room when you were younger?”

Dick turned back to her, grinning, “Hard to believe, I know.” Then he shrugged, “Yeah. I had some bad nights, and I had gotten used to waiting it out with my parents.”

“Oh...” She pursed her lips, “Was he any good at being a...a dad?”

Dick let out a little chuckle, “He wasn’t, no. But he didn’t need to be. I just wanted...” Dick’s eyes became distant, “I just wanted to know someone else was there.”

When she reached out to squeeze his hand, she was rewarded with a slow, easy smile that made her heart beat faster. She used to always think it was only dorky and impish - and it was, it always would be - but now... Dick was one comfort she allowed herself. One good thing.

Dick grinned in the darkness, “My heart’s beating really fast.” He held their linked hands up to his chest.

She closed her eyes, feeling the liquid beat as she whispered back, “Guess you must be really excited for Tim’s snacks.”

Dick’s chuckle was low and warm as they naturally inched closer.

“You know,” Dick said, his voice warm, with just enough of a hint of sadness to make Barbara open her eyes and look at him. “I was up on the rooftop before, thinking...about Bruce and everything we have to do because he’s gone, and I kept on thinking about all the things I’d have to worry about...you weren’t one of the things I worried about.”

“That probably sounded better in your head,” Barbara whispered, ending with a grin.

Dick bit his lip sheepishly, “Yeah. Well. I mean it. I’m glad you’re here. I trust you, maybe even _more_ than myself. You’re...amazing at this, and I’m lucky that I get to work with you.”

“Just work?” Barbara asked, her voice low and teasing.

“No,” Dick replied, both of them inching closer, “Not just work...”

They leaned in for a kiss when they heard a squeak of the floorboards, and still centimeters apart, they both glanced sideways at Tim who was holding a pile of snacks in his arm and attempting to sneak away.

They glanced back at each other, gave each other a quick kiss, and then Barbara coughed intentionally, making Tim freeze.

“Um,” Tim said, “Continue on your way.”

Dick grinned while Barbara glanced at Tim and then at the bundle of snacks he had retrieved from his room.

“You took all the cheetos,” she accused and Tim’s only response was a shameless shrug. “You snooze you lose.”

Then he cocked his head, “And uh, so should I go... or...?”

“Come here, doofus,” Dick and Barbara said simultaneously, grabbing Tim until they were standing in front of Bruce’s door.

 

Tim was feeling somewhat underestimated at the moment.

They had all piled in on the bed, pulling up the blankets, shoving each other and climbing over the others’ limbs until they found a spot they were comfortable in. Namely, Barbara and Dick had shoved Tim into the middle, insisting that he was the smallest, with Dick claiming he had a small bladder, and Barbara that she couldn’t sleep if it was too hot.

Tim couldn’t believe what big liars they were.

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms and slouched down into the bed, sulking. It was the wrong move because both Dick and Barbara, instead of feeling any sort of guilt, piled Tim with wet kisses and syrupy cooing and tickling.

“Oh my Go-od,” Tim gasped, tears streaming down his face, Dick holding onto his ankle while Barbara’s hands tickled his foot, “Yo-ou guy s-suck.”

Tim thrashed, chucking whatever of Bruce’s he could find at them without any remorse.

“Yeah, Dick does,” Barbara said, tackling Tim. Tim made a loud oomph at her weight. Then Dick piled on, shoving his face into Tim’s with a wide grin, “You talking smack about me, Little Wing?”

“Yes,” Tim replied, shamelessly, barely keeping a straight face.

Dick raised his eyebrows before looking down at Barbara and saying, “Okay, so who here wants to know about the boy Tim’s been crushing on?”

Barbara and Tim started yelling at the same time.

 

They were quiet.

Tim worked on his laptop, sandwiched between Barbara and Dick and he thought it would be more awkward but it wasn’t at all. Barbara was lifting weights, doing leg lifts. Dick was just relaxed on the bed, half leaning on Tim, lost in his thoughts.

It was practically silent, and the yellow lamp light of the room was spread over them, keeping the shadows just far enough away at bay.

Tim had never liked silence much. He liked music, noise, crickets chirping, rain falling. Just enough so that there was a quiet hum of background noise that let him know that he wasn’t the only one in the world. He liked the quiet they had then, and how he could hear Barbara’s labored breathing from her exertions and the slight rustle of the cloth as Dick shifted around, unable to keep completely still.

Dick started humming a little between bites of cheetos and Tim could just pick out the tune of The Man on the Flying Trapeze. Clicking to save his files - Tim didn’t save anything online anymore- not after Barbara and her ruthless extraction of embarrassing files to teach him a lesson - Tim stared at some report he had been working on for Young Justice.

They had done nose goes when Mal told them to write one up and because basically everyone except Tim was enhanced, Tim’d been stuck with the short end of the stick.

Tim’s thoughts trailed off again, thinking about his schedule for tomorrow and the katas he needed to practice...

...maybe they could convince Alfred to order them pizza tomorrow...

Tim was half asleep on Dick, his own argument of getting up unconvincing when it was warm and he was tired. Dick took the laptop out of his hands and closed it, shifted Tim, probably to make him more comfortable - and Tim was almost all gone, so he wasn’t sure, but Dick and Barbara probably kissed, meeting in the middle, which was above Tim. Which ew. Tim slipped away feeling unbearably warm, tucked in between his siblings, and he wished Bruce was there, safe, but hey, Dick was an idiot so he’d probably go charging with batarangs-a-blazing if Bruce was jailed and Tim and Barbara would follow him without a second thought. Bruce would come home, and they’d defeat the Reach and the Light with bad puns and everything would be alright...Tim snored.

 

“As you can see, they’re sleeping soundly Master Bruce and you can stop worrying - if that’s physically  possible for you.”

“I wasn- is that my bed? Are they eating cheetos on my bed?”

“It is and they are indeed, Master Bruce. An astute observation.”

“...take care of them Alfred.” Bruce growled in his Batman voice, and Alfred could hear snickers in the background.

“Oh no, they can take care of themselves. You’re the one who taught them how. Now then, if you don’t mind, I have other duties to take care of besides spying on your children for you.”

Bruce coughed and growled, “One more thing,” and there was another wave of hysterical laughter.

“I’m glad to know you’re getting along with your friends.”

“They’re not my friends, but they _are_ going to be very dead soon if they don't shut up.”

Alfred smiled, staring at the screen, “Take care, Master Bruce. Remember that we don’t allow criminals in this house, so you’d better come home a freeman.”

“Of course, Alfred.” Then Bruce glanced around a little before he looked at Alfred and said, keeping his voice low even as he spoke quickly, “Keep Dick off the chandeliers and make sure Barbara keeps an eye on him so that he takes a break. Tim is only allowed two cups of coffee a day and give him three compliments - maybe more if he starts rambling- and one criticism a day to not get his suspicions up. Barbara should make sure to visit Dinah every once in awhile so that the boys don’t permanently cripple her ability for rational thinking and to tell her that she has nothing to prove or-”

Clark appeared on the screen, shoving Bruce out of the way with one hand without breaking a sweat, “Hi. Sorry about this Alfred. We’re actually going to be out of range soon, so I guess we’ll see you soon.”

“Move out of the way, Kent.”

“Also could you tell Dick not to worry? Well, all of them. Bruce’s horrible at reassuring them; he’s too roundabout.”

“Of course, Master Clark. Also, if I may ask, please find an opportune time to inform Master Bruce that I’ll of course share this video with when they wake up. I know he wouldn’t want them to worry,” Alfred replied, making Clark grin wildly.

“What’s Alfred saying? Kent give me the tab-”

Bruce grabbed the tablet and then went after Clark, leaving Diana with it, the two heroes’ voices in the background.

“You motherfucker, son of a bitch Kent. I own the Daily Planet and I will fire your sorry ass you-”

Diana smiled kindly into the camera, “He hasn’t slept much as I'm sure you know. But don’t worry. Clark and I’ll take care of Bruce.”

Alfred smiled and closed the transmission, but not before he heard the last threats of, “-on’t you dare insult my costume. My mother made it, Wayne, you fucker- the tablet beeped as the screen closed.

Alfred shook his head and stared at the three kids draped over each other. The yellow light of the lamp curved over their cheeks and lit up their relaxed expressions. Then Alfred pulled a blanket over them and turned off the light before leaving them to their gentle dreams of Gotham city and its heroes.

 

Dick woke up, smelling some citrusy shampoo and pressed his face into Barbara’s hair, slide his hand to her waist and...chest? Dick opened his eyes and saw that he was groping his sleeping little brother’s chest and that his girlfriend was shaking in the corner with gasping laughter. When Barbara was finally done laughing, she looked at him and offered out her hand.  “Need something to hold onto, _Dick_?”

Dick grinned and leaned over to kiss it and then settled back with their linked hands on Tim’s side.

“He’s gonna be so grossed out.”

Barbara returned his grin.

Dick fell asleep again, looking at Barbara’s warm, sleepy smile and figured that one of the best ways to start the morning was going right back to sleep. With that smile in his sight.

  
Tim woke up to find that it was unbearably hot and that the first thing he saw was Barbara and Dick’s hands linked. Lying on top of his stomach. Like he was the baby in the middle. “Oh. Gross.” He looked at the clock. It was still in the a.m’s. Grosser. Then he glanced from side to side at Dick and Barbara’s sleeping faces. Well, Tim figured, screw it. As long as the invasion wasn’t happening right that instant...Tim was asleep before his head hit Bruce’s pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this is weird, but I can never tell if someone wants a reply to their comment or not. So if you do comment, and want a response, put an @ at the beginning!


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